The Marionette
by We're All Just A Little Mad
Summary: He wanted her. He wanted to control her, to own her. To make her bow to his every command. She would be his. She would be his marionette. No Time-Travel AU
1. Chapter 1: The Unwanted Welcome

**Chapter 1: The Unwanted Welcome**

* * *

_September 1__st__, 1938_

A young boy stood at the platform with eyes shining with curiosity and bafflement. There standing before him, hundreds of children of varying ages laughing and cheering before him. Running around him as if he wasn't a part of the picture. They all knew each other. The elder students all greeted their classmates with hugs and enjoyment. The younger students, the First Years seemed to have recognized each other as well. It was as if everyone in the room had a companion and he was left astray.

But the children were the least of his concerns, it was the train. The bright red steam engine that brought a happy atmosphere to the platform. Almost a welcoming aura.

The dark haired boy arched his elegant eyebrow at the train. Was this the mode of transportation that would take him away from his orphanage for good? The idea pleased him immensely but he did not show it. His face remained cold and indifferent as he continued to scan his surroundings.

Owls, frogs and cats all clung to their owners or stacked into cages. Things he'd never even dreamed of. Things that were strange and abnormal. Things that would make any child squirm with delight. And he wondered vaguely if this was a dream.

He found a sense of belonging here. And he refused to allow anyone to snatch it away from him.

This was the wizarding world. And this was where he belonged.

The pale faced boy clutched his small suitcase. It didn't contain much. It was ridiculously small compared to some of the other children. They had two or three suitcases, each one at least three times larger than his. He suddenly felt self-conscious at the lack of belongings he owned. Slightly humiliated but he would not let it show.

The eleven year old stepped around the gathered families. He hated those children with all the love in the world. Why wasn't that him? Where was his mother and father? He hated them for not being there.

"Now you be careful now dear," A crying mother said to her young daughter. The man and woman looked slightly out of place. With their Muggle attire while everyone else dressed in robes. The boy cringed in horror when he caught sight of the child's horrendous mane.

"Write to us every day; tell us what everything is like over there," A smiling father patted his daughter's pathetic excuse of hair.

He hated her, he had decided. He had seen enough.

He boarded the train and was baffled by the amount of students dressed in their Hogwarts attire. He had the same one but his was not as new and fresh as theirs. He gulped and stared at his own uniform. Wrinkly and dirty. A second-hand uniform. It smelt of peanuts he now realized. He hoped no one would come close and notice this as well.

He pushed past students without a small gesture or 'excuse me' He tried to ignore the points and stares that would sometimes follow him.

The boy's hands clammed with sweat and he gave a nervous gulp. He searched for an empty compartment. He didn't want to look like a fool wandering around. The fact that he was alone was painfully evident. He wanted to be apart of the laughter, the jokes. He gave a nervous gulp as the other students weren't interested in him. He just yearned for someone to call him over and welcome him.

He opened a compartment door which contained a small group of boys. Perhaps he would make some friends.

They all looked up. They were first years to but they all seemed to have known each other. One of them frowned up at him, as if he had interrupted an important conversation. Another stared at his robes with mock. The rest just looked up at him expectantly. Their air of arrogance swallowed him up.

"Is there room for one more?" He asked, he was pleased when his voice didn't shake or tremble. The dark haired boy eyed the empty spot beside a blonde haired boy.

His heart sank when the blonde picked his bag off the floor and hauled it into the empty spot and turned to snarl up at him.

"Sorry," The blonde sneered, his voice not containing any apology. "It's taken,"

The dark haired boy turned and left. His suitcase bouncing behind him. Humiliation rang through him, leaving him with a sick and hollow feeling. He just felt so shut down. And they had barely said a word.

He hated them. He would make them pay.

The boy strutted through the small hallways. The train had already left the station and students had already found their seats. However some still wandered the hallways.

He was shoved to the side by some older students. He knew all too well that it was deliberate.

"Look out, freak," One of them hissed at him. Tom Riddle had never felt so small. He could only give them a frown and shrink away. He just wanted to find a compartment and stay there forever. His heart swelled with hate and neglect.

Self consciously, he reached up to touch his face. What could be wrong with it? What could be wrong with _him?_

__He felt so lost. Like he was trying to find his way through the dark with no sense of light. He absolutely despised this feeling.

He turned to random compartment begging internally that it'd be empty. A group of girls laid within it. And just like the group of boys had they all turned and faced him. Their pretty little faces scrunched up into criticism.

They all eyed him with scrutiny.

"What do _you_ want?" A red headed girl hissed. Her eyes narrowed into slits. None of the girls said anything but their faces told him to leave all on their own.

His heart swelled, as if ready to burst. His eyes burned with unshed tears. Why did they hate him so?

"Well don't just stand there, freak," A girl hissed. A few girls giggled at her insult. Cheering her on. The girl simply smirked at their praise. "Say something,"

Freak?

How many times had he been called that already?

That was what he was to them wasn't he? Back at the orphanage he was one. The kids, the caretakers, _everyone_ thought he was a freak. They beat him for it. They teased him for it. They singled him out for it.

Everywhere he went. He was nothing but scum to them.

Without another word he left the compartment leaving a loud _bang _behind him. Tears had begun to fall from his face. He was weak. He hated how they made him feel like that. He felt defenseless, he felt like he was _nothing. _

He was inferior to them all. He hated it! He absolutely hated it. He wanted to go back. He wanted to go back to the orphanage. He never thought he would say that but that was how much he hated this this place. It was worse than that godforsaken hell hole.

And there it was. An empty compartment. His heart felt no better though. He still felt desertion. But at least he was alone. Alone from all those stupid people.

The young boy turned towards the window. He could see a faint reflection as he stared at it. Trying to find out what was wrong with him. He was pale. Was that why? His cheeks seemed hollow. He looked like he had enough to eat, but not enough to satisfy him. His bottom lip trembled. What about his hair? It was a neat patch of raven hair. It was combed to the side not a strand out of place. His face carried a glum expression, as if he didn't know how to smile.

This is what he was wasn't he? A freak?

He _hated_ them.

Hogwarts was supposed to be his new home. Where he belonged. He wasn't supposed to be out of place and set to the side.

He wanted to destroy them. Make them apologize to him. And he would, he would make all of them pay.

They would beg for mercy, they would regret ever mistreating him.

The kids from the orphanage. The students from Hogwarts. He would make them all cringe in fear when he walked in the room-

The door swung open with a loud sound. His head snapped up to find the intruder. He frowned; couldn't they just leave him in peace?

He was dumbfounded when he saw that bushy haired girl standing there at the door. Her eyes, he could not stop looking at those eyes.

Something about them. They shone so bright, with an untameable fire. With intelligence and wit. It was the girl with the Muggle parents. The girl he had decided to hate.

His frown deepened.

"What do _you_ want?" He hissed mimicking to how the girls had treated him.

The girl did not seem dazzled by his harshness. Instead she narrowed her eyes.

"Do you mind if I take a seat?" Her voice was confident. She wasn't asking him, she was merely stating something.

The small boy was frazzled. Someone wanted to sit with him? _Him?_ This bushy haired girl of all people? He was disappointed. He was hoping for someone more…worthy.

His small nose wrinkled up at the girl in disgust.

"These seats are taken," He hissed, recalling how the boys had humiliated him at his most desperate time.

But the girl only showed defiance. Not really hearing him as she propped down her small satchel to the side. It was even smaller than his. He snorted.

"I didn't say you could sit," He snarled, trying to get this lion like girl to leave. The girl gave a small sniff of arrogance and pulled out a large tome from her satchel.

He wanted to read it. He wanted to snatch it from the girl's hands and read it to satisfy his greedy curiosity.

He watched enviously as she read the book's contents. Why would such a young girl read something that was so clearly above her intelligence level?

The boy brought a small hand to scratch the side of his temple.  
"What book is that?" He demanded. Allowing himself to show power and control. However the girl did not seem to want to bend to his will. As if she was a force equal or even greater to him. He despised her even more for that.

The bushy haired girl looked up at him. Her round and rosy cheeks made the boy's face appear even more sunken and hollow.

"Hogwarts a History," She elaborated and returned her attention to the book as if he wasn't anything of interest.

His face contorted to something of anger. He would not let this girl; out of all people, defy him as such.

"Is it a good book?" He asked, his voice cool in calm, his mind seething with rage. But the girl looked up at him, baffled. He decided that he enjoyed this expression of shock on her. It was evident that this girl was not used to people taking interest in her literature. He didn't blame those people. Even _he_ wasn't interested.

"It's quite interesting actually," She explained. He saw a small smile graced on her lips. Perhaps this child shared the same love of books he had. Something he could never share with the other children. "I've read it at least five times already," She grinned, she too was excited to find someone with the same passion as she.

"Did you know that the Hogwarts Express was originally built by _Muggles?" _She said her grin displaying her excitement about the book.

Yes, he had already known. He too had already done extensive reading. He hadn't bought any books, but no one would notice when he would slip into Diagon Alley and hide in the bookshops for hours.

"No, I did not," He smiled back at her with his perfectly carved lie, but it looked more like a smirk.

The bushy haired girl's eyes seemed to have lightened up at this. She then took this opportunity to ramble on about Hogwarts. She was practically reciting the paragraphs from the pages. Truth be told, the boy was annoyed as hell. He wanted to pull out his Yew Wand and curse the girl's mouth shut. Too bad he didn't know any curses yet. But he allowed her to ramble. Even giving a polite nod every now and then.

The young boy would very much like to get up and leave. Leave the girl wondering why he had left so abruptly. But something about the girl intrigued him. It certainly wasn't the hair for sure. He thought as he eyed the nest on her head.

"Oh I nearly forgot!" The girl breathed out as if to take a rest from a long run. "I'm Hermione," She stuck out her hand for him to shake. "Hermione Granger," She smiled up at him.

The boy eyed the hand with scrutiny. He wondered if he touched it if his hair would become as obnoxious as hers. But he shook it nonetheless.

He grasped her hand and was surprised by the warmth from it. It was not sweaty and clammy but it was warm. Her hand was soft to.

"Tom," He began, his eyes glinting with something Hermione could not identify. "Tom Riddle,"

It was the beginning of a friendship whether Tom Riddle liked it or not.

* * *

_A/N: This is my little outtake of Tom Riddle as a child. I do not believe he was born evil as indicated in the books or movies. I believe something had to have made him cold and defiant. Giving him reason to hate as much as he does._

_In case you haven't realized, I changed the timeline to where Hermione Granger was born in Tom Riddle's era and will attend Hogwarts in 1938 instead of with Harry and Ron. There is no Time Travel simply an AU. I wanted to try a different approach to the Tomione fanfictions instead of the classic Time-Travel ones._

_Hope you enjoyed this chapter_!

**~We're All Just A Little Mad**


	2. Chapter 2: The Division

**Chapter 2: The Division **

* * *

_September 1__st__, 1938_

"Ravenclaw? I suppose that isn't the _worst_ House at Hogwarts," Riddle commented to Granger as she trailed him off the train. From the corner of his eye he watched as her face scrunched up into a scowl. He rejoiced privately knowing it was because of him she had that reaction.

"Well it's either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor," Hermione chirped as she tried to catch up with her new companion.

She could see his face contort into something of anger. He didn't like the idea of Hermione going into Gryffindor. It was so unworthy and filthy and he refused to see her be set into such a pathetic excuse of a House. He glanced in her direction. Why did he care where she got sorted into anyways?

"Why _Gryffindor_?" He sneered, his face and tone cold but Hermione did not falter or cringe.

"Well I suppose it wouldn't be my _first_ choice. I'd much prefer Ravenclaw, but Gryffindor values traits that I value myself!" She grinned as she pulled her satchel closer to her. Tom wanted to glower down at her. But a voice cut through their conversation.

"First Years!" A man called out! "First Years over here!"

Tom did not get a good chance to examine the man beckoning them over. He could tell however that this man was old. His wrinkly hand waving around to gather all the first years.

Around him, students grouped together, trying to get closer together. He could nearly feel the excitement buzzing around him. Tom Riddle would not admit that he to, was excited to see the castle firsthand.

The old man babbled something about the First Years to follow him. The young boy did not pay too much attention. He nearly scoffed when he saw Hermione gazing up at the old man. Bouncing on her tippy toes to try and get a glance. Tom did not see the excitement in it all.

He rolled his eyes as Hermione stumbled to try and trail the students to where the old man was guiding them to.

"I think they're going to take us over the Black Lake," Granger gasped in awe. Tom Riddle frowned and continued to keep walking. So she really had done her research. He looked around, the younger students were wondering why they were being taken away from the older students. They didn't know what was going on. Did they honestly have no idea of the famous Hogwarts tradition?

He glanced at Granger who scuffled to his side. Why were they still walking together? But it seemed no matter how fast he walked, Granger seemed to manage to trail behind him. He quite liked that thought, he did not know why though.

The walk to the shore was quick. Every now and then he would get shoved to the side by rushing students or arrogant little boys.

Hermione didn't say anything though. She was too busy trying to step over twigs and trying not to trip. And when she did fall, Riddle made no movement to help. However the girl did not seem to mind. In fact, it was as if she wasn't even expecting him to help. Like she was capable of handling herself all on her own.

It wasn't long until they found themselves floating along the Black Lake. Most students had grouped into fours, but Tom and Hermione were left on their own. But Tom Riddle did not complain. This girl continued to intrigue him. And this time it wasn't just the hair.

The small row boats pushed into the water all on their own. Tom Riddle fought back a gasp of amazement when the boats navigated and sailed without a single aid from anyone. He turned back to Hermione, somehow she was just as memorizing as the Magical World.

The way she stared at the surroundings. Gasping and aweing at every little detail. He watched as she dipped her small hand into the water. He wondered if any creatures would take the hand and snatch her down into the watery depths.

Tom Riddle averted his gaze as he watched the boats trail down the grand lake. It was vast and huge. He was so small compared to the body of water. He did not like that. He glowered at the lake for making him feel so small. But the lake did not respond. It only glistened and sparkled. Reflecting the happy night sky.

"Look, Tom," Her small voice rang through his ears. It was the first time she had said his name. He didn't know why that was so significant.

Before any more thought could be put into it, he was presented with the greatest sight he had ever seen in his short eleven years.

A castle that would bring fairy tales to shame. It towered with great structures which brought command and elegance. He could feel the magical aura. He could feel the magic from just looking at it. It was where great wizards were born. Tom wanted to be a great wizard. The greatest of them all.

For once he had completely forgotten about Hermione. He was completely engulfed with the sight of this magnificent castle. It even brought more pleasure knowing that he would be living here. It was _his._

"Wow," Hermione breathed rather to herself than anyone else. Tom did not respond to her, but he agreed.

And the boats carried them down to where they would lead the beginning of their lives.

* * *

"I'm just saying that you shouldn't be so judgmental on these Houses," Hermione hissed as they watched the Sorting go by.

Riddle smirked at Hermione's statement. He bent down closer to her ear.

"That's something someone would say if they got Sorted into a_ pathetic_ house. Much like _you_ will," He snarled. Hermione immediately tensed up. He quite enjoyed riling her up. Her face scrunched up into anger. Her face reddening and her hair looked even wilder.

The girl was about the snarl something when her name was called.

* * *

"Hermione Granger," A professor summoned. The crowd shuffled and Hermione Granger swallowed nervously as she walked up to the chair.

The professor gave the young girl a reassuring smile but it did not ease Hermione's nervousness. Hermione now realized just how many people were in the Great Hall. Hundreds of eyes all gazing up at her. It was silent as she sat before the crowd.

Hermione found herself staring back at Riddle. The strange pale boy she had met on the train. She quickly averted her gaze, she did not want him to know she was staring at him.

She flinched when the hat was placed on her head. She nearly screamed when the Hat whispered into her ear. A tone so low only she could hear. She could feel the hairs on her back stand up.

"_I see a thirst for knowledge. An unquenchable thirst at that," _The Sorting Hat droned in her ear. Hermione shivered at the foreign voice.

"_I see traits in you that Rowena Ravenclaw herself would want in her House,"_ Hermione internally celebrated at the Hat's compliments and quickly cast a glance towards Tom Riddle who was still eyeing her carefully.

"_However I see a great sense of loyalty, nerve and chivalry." _Hermione suddenly felt cold. Somewhere in the back of her mind she could hear Riddle's voice criticizing the House of Lions. She wondered why his pathetic opinion so important to her.

But she could still not stop herself for internally praying for Ravenclaw.

"_I'm sorry, Ms. Granger but Ravenclaw would not suit you that well, no matter what Mr. Riddle has to say," _

It took her a while to process what he had just said before the words:

"_Gryffindor!"_ Was yelled to the entire Great Hall. Hermione gave a weak smile as she stumbled to the table applauding their new House member. She found herself forcing herself to stand tall. Gryffindors weren't all that bad. She could practically feel their welcoming arms. Room for her was made as she sat down at her new table, watching the rest of the Sorting go by.

Hermione forced herself not to look at the young pale faced boy. She could feel his eyes burning into the back of her head. Gryffindor wasn't so bad; it was her second choice after Ravenclaw.

She numbly watched the rest of the Sorting go by.

The young First Year made the mistake of looking up. There his cold eyes seethed into hers. As if to punish her for being placed into the 'filthy House.' She was taken aback by his harshness. She had only met him today! Why on Earth would she care what _he_ thought of her House.

Her happy aura was quickly dampened. How could one single boy smash her mood so quickly?

"Tom Riddle," The female professor called out. Suddenly Hermione leant forward. Eager to discover the fate of her new found companion. She watched attentively as he practically sauntered onto the stand. Wasn't he nervous at all? He looked like he owned the place!

The Sorting Hat was placed onto him, slightly covering his eyes. Hermione was found herself biting her lower lip as the Hall fell silent once more.

It was surprisingly quick. Almost too quick.

"_Slytherin!"_ The Hat roared. Hermione could see Riddle looking slightly smug. _That _was what he wanted? Hermione trailed Riddle with her eyes as she watched him sit down at the Slytherin table.

His gaze immediately found hers. Hermione gave a small shrug and smiled to lighten the tension but he only glared at her. As if she had disappointed him. Hermione fought to shrink down into the table. Instead she forced herself to sit tall and glare back. She was a Gryffindor now and she wouldn't let this _Slytherin _boy toy with her feelings.

But to her dismay he only smirked at her mockingly and turned away from her, suddenly _deeply_ interested in the Sorting.

Hermione was suddenly at lost. She felt a little torn inside. Not because her first friend had just been Sorted into her rival House. But because he insisted on playing the role.

* * *

_A/N: Fun fact of the day! This story was actually inspired by a song called Marionette by Antonia. The song doesn't directly fit into the story but it was the song that inspired me to write this. Oh music =)_

_~We're All Just A Little Mad_


	3. Chapter 3: Carving the Beast

**Chapter 3: Carving the Beast**

* * *

_September 6th__, 1938_

"Gryffindor? Bloody _Gryffindor?_" Tom mocked in her direction as Hermione ducked behind a book, shielding herself from the Slytherin's insults. "I thought you were better than that, Granger," He hissed again, trying to get her to show him any reaction.

However Hermione did not move. She only flipped through the book and forced herself to write an essay her new Professor had assigned her.

"I mean honestly? Hufflepuff is already bad, but _Gryffindor?"_ Tom Riddle burst out laughing that drew a certain attention from the occupants of the library.

He saw her bite her lower lip and smirked internally knowing he had gotten a form of reaction from her.

"Are you going to start prancing around the hallways now? Announcing your daring hearts and chivalrous souls?" He snickered down at the poor Gryffindor who was trying to bite down angry tears that threatened to fall.

Tom Riddle noted proudly that she had set her quill down and just stared blankly at the pages. Her jaw firmly clenched and her face fighting back any signs of recognition.

"Chivalry! Bravery!" He chanted with mock, "Are you going to start saving lives now?" He poked still trying to provoke another reaction from him.

He examined her closely; she was trying her hardest to stop any emotion from flooding through. But all those weeks together, he knew better.

She hadn't spoken to him for almost an entire day, trying to avoid him. She had even tried to make new friends to keep herself busy. But to her dismay, all the other Gryffindors weren't interested in her. In fact, Hermione firmly believed that they found her annoying. And so, there she was again, left all alone. That gave Riddle more than enough opportunities to find her, corner her and insult her House.

"I'm disappointed, Granger," He drawled.

There was a large slam. It even made Riddle jump slightly. Looked up Hermione had stood from her seat. Grasping her book in clenched hands as her face was contorted into anger.

"If you're so _disappointed_. If you're so _ashamed_. If you're so _displeased._ Then go find someone who fits your criteria." She hissed, her voice cracking from her fury.

Riddle smirked at his victory. It didn't take much for her to be completely offended by this reaction. She gripped the sides of her book even tighter. Her fists paled to a white.

The Slytherin found this quite amusing. Watching this young girl react the way she did all because of him.

Hermione glowered down at him while he only found humor in the situation. When neither of them spoke, the Gryffindor practically stomped her foot and made to leave.

Riddle quickly grasped her hand pulling her back. She gave a small 'eep' and he enjoyed that look of surprise on her face.

"Who said you could leave?" He asked calmly, his tone relevantly indifferent. Hermione's face melted into shock and disbelief as he mouthed those words.

"You cannot tell me what to do!" She hissed trying to yank her hand away from his cold grip.

"Sit down, Granger," He spoke, his face still calm, as if trying to train a stubborn dog. His tone infuriated Hermione. Her temper heating up once more.

"No," She bit back, her gaze challenging Riddle to make the next move.

"Hermione," He warned, and it struck the Gryffindor that he was being completely serious. This kid honestly expected her to bend to his every single will?!

"Let me go, Riddle," She frowned.

She pulled her arm again but he only held her tighter. He wasn't going to let her leave wasn't he?

"Sit down," He ordered. His tone was not cold but Hermione felt a strange compulsion to obey. She glared back down at him, trying to escape him.

"No," She repeated her anger radiating but she showed now detestation.

"Granger," He warned, like a mother scolding a little toddler. Hermione did not like being spoken to in such a matter, it made her feel small.

They both stared at each other for a few moments. One with fiery rage, the other shining with amusement.

With a defeated sigh Hermione ripped her hand from his grasp and she sat down. Riddle's smirk widened. The brunette scowled at him but she did not hate him.

He did not gloat of his victory, but it shone brightly in his eyes. Something that annoyed Hermione to no end, but she simply replaced herself in her original seating and proceeded as if nothing happened. So did Riddle as he mentally celebrated his control.

* * *

Hermione ducked the insults as she scooted towards Riddle at the front of the classroom. She could feel angry stares directed towards her. Particularly the Slytherins. They mentioned something about her impure status as she scuttled to the chair next to him.

It had almost been a month since she attended Hogwarts, and the Slytherin's had been insulting her blood status ever since.

But it wasn't as bad. At least she had Riddle by her side. Even if he couldn't say or do anything, it was still better than being targeted alone.

"They just won't shut up," Hermione muttered as she pulled out her textbooks. Riddle stared at her, examining her every movement.

He stared back at the Slytherins who were trying to toss papers at the back of her head. He looked back at Hermione who shrugged into her position, as if it would somehow shield her from their assaults. She wasn't scared or broken, she was simply annoyed.

He wondered vaguely if she knew that he suffered the exact same treatment at a tenfold in the Slytherin Common Room. It was often that he would get cursed or hexed just as he walked in. The older students found pleasure in teasing the First Years, but Riddle was generally targeted for his questionable heritage.

His eyes unwillingly trailed to his right arm; there was still a painful scar there. There were many scars. Both physically and emotionally. But he hid them well though. He did not want anyone finding out. Especially Hermione.

He glanced at Hermione who gave a huff as Abraxas Malfoy insulted her heritage. At least Hermione suffered as well. That made him feel slightly better.

* * *

"Don't you think that, that book is rather..." Hermione trailed off as she examined her companion's harsh Curse book. Riddle did not care. He would learn every single curse in the book. He had sworn that he would make those kids pay. Pay for their mistreatment. He enjoyed the thought of making them plead for forgiveness.

"It's a book, Hermione, what's wrong with that?" He sneered, not wanting to reveal his true intentions to the Gyrffindor.

The young brunette pursed her lips together as if trying to find a polite way to scold him.

"I'm just saying that you shouldn't waste time reading books like…_that_" She jerked her head in the direction of the large tome he held in his still undeveloped hands. "I mean '_Burgus and Yiels' List of Dark Curses' _isn't rather pleasant reading." She explained, her weak smile trying to lighten the mood.

"So_ 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them,' is_ considered _appropriate _reading?" He hissed back, mocking the choice of reading that Hermione had in her own hands. Hermione winced at his tone but she still remained seated with him.

"I'm just saying that maybe there are better books you could read," She suggested, her tone painfully polite knowing her friend's rather unstable temper.

"What is with you? Who cares about what the book is about?" He hissed back, defending himself too much for Hermione's liking.

"_I_ do, Tom," She was practically begging him as she leaned forward. "_I_ care about the Dark Magic you're reading about, and frankly, I don't like it."

"Well does it look like I care what you think?"

Pain was reflected in her eyes and Tom was proud that it was because of him. He watched as her gaze dropped to the floor, as if the floor would tell her what to say next.

"Tom-," She began but he was defensive and was quick to cut her off.

"_Hermione,_ why don't _you_ stick to _your_ reading and I'll stick to _mine,"_ He barked at the young Lioness. He privately rejoiced when she coiled back into her seat. She wasn't scared, she was disgusted. He didn't like that reaction, he decided.

He sat there, he was waiting. He wanted her to say something. _Anything. _He wanted her to bark back a comment. He wanted her to snarl something in defense. He wanted _something_ out of her. But she didn't say anything.

Hermione Granger only regarded him as if silently asking him '_why'_

She didn't get up to leave like he expected, instead she pulled out her own books and read them in silence.

That night they sat in the library in silence. They stayed until the library closed. They always did. But this time there was no laughter or intelligent conversation. They only sat in a tense silence. They were practically pouting in their own seats. Glaring at the books in front of them. Quite comedic to an outsider.

Neither was ready to get up and leave. Because doing so would admit defeat and both were too stubborn do so.

When the librarian came and shooed them away both eyed the other party. They both stood up simultaneously, they gathered their books simultaneously. They were waiting for an apology from the other. However they were both to hotheaded to even dream of giving in.

No one noticed a small chuckle from the librarian who was watching the stare down.

As they exited the library they exchanged one last glare before they each stormed down opposite directions to their own Common Rooms.

Both of them had already forgiven the other. They wouldn't admit it though.

* * *

"Again, Flint!" Abraxas Malfoy shouted at the sixth year who dangled Tom Riddle from the ceiling.

Tom Riddle winced as he braced himself for the curse. Flint and the other sixth years laughed as he casted the spell and the young boy's face contorted and shifted into the different faces of animals.

He fought back a shout of help when his face melted into one of a pig's. His pale face shaded into a bright pink. His nose a giant snout and his ears were now large and floppy.

The other Slytherin's gathered around as they watched the young First Year's face change from animal to animal.

"How about a monkey?" A second year suggested. There were shouts of agreement and Riddle was ready to burst into tears.

Hair sprouted from every corner of his face, his eyes widening as his face was Transfigured into one of a Drill Monkey.

Humiliation pumped through him as words of insult were shouted at him.

"Quite an improvement I think!" A female voice cried out.

"Maybe we should leave him like that! He looks much better looking now!" Another commented and the entire Common Room burst into laughter.

The torture went on for the entire night. It was the weekend after all. The students didn't mind staying up late to humiliate the 'Muggle' boy.

Riddle swayed back and forth trying to find a way to get down. He hated them all. He imagined killing every single one of them. He wished he could get his wand right now. He would use all the curses he knew on them. He would kill them all.

"Look at him," A fourth year cooed with mock.

"Aweh, he wants to get down, Flint," Another smirked. Riddle gave a cry. He tried to shout. To tell them to let him down. He wanted someone to help him. Anyone. Where were the professors? Was there _anyone_ to help him?

He felt the spell holding him upside down cancel and the young boy fell to the cold stone floor with a loud _crash._ He felt dazed for a moment as he recollected himself. He couldn't get up however. There was too much pain holding him.

Riddle gave a gasp as he gripped his left knee. Blood soaked through his uniform as new scrapes and cuts formed.

It hurt so badly. He bit his lower lip and focused on his own hurt so that he could possibly block out the assaults of the Slytherins. Maybe that way he didn't have to hear them.

He would not cry. Not in front of them. A large lumped was formed in throat as he shivered. He felt so alone. He was a baby deer that wandered into the predator's den. Lost and scared.

He was so vulnerable as they continued to laugh and hiss rude things at him.

"Filthy blood!" One would shout.

"Unworthy of the Slytherin Crest!" They would howl.

Riddle kept his head low hoping it would make him disappear. There were so many enemies in one room. Everyone hated him. Everyone wished he was dead. They made _him _wish he was dead. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into a deep dark trench and just _die. _No one would miss him anyways.

No one wanted him.

He was worthless.

* * *

_A/N: Poor Riddle *sadface* It's okay; this is how we will carve your destructive nature! Then all will be well and swell! Because all hate was born from something right?_

_Yes I know Tom Riddle isn't a Muggle but he doesn't know that yet :)_

_~We're All Just A Little Mad_


End file.
